Always Love
by purplemud
Summary: Naley One Shots: Missing You  Lucas comes in everyday and tells him: You miss her Nate, I do too, but you’ve go to stop moping around.
1. Halo

**Halo **

By Grace (**purplemud**)

**Disclaimers**: Me don't own. Standard disclaimers apply.

**Pairings**: Naley

Summary: A sort of take on how Haley wrote her song, Halo.

**Spoilers**: Season Two

_**Halo**_

Her day starts off like any other day. Everything swirls around her in a blur. School. Tutoring. Nathan by his locker, ignoring her. Exams on Econ and Calc and then by afternoon, pouring over her music sheet, opening her mouth and trying to wrench the pain from out of her heart and into a song.

She hears the snicker and looks sharply up, meeting Chris' sneering face.

"Hard to fall from grace, huh, James?"

She narrows her eyes, comes to the conclusion that Chris Keller is desperate to get hit by a girl,. She isn't going to give him that satisfaction, so she rolls her eyes and stomp off, ignoring his half-hearted apologies. He thinks he's being funny being the asshole that he is. She sees right through him though. He's lonely. Probably lonelier than she is, but that still doesn't give him an excuse to be a such an asshat.

He calls her back, intoning Nathan's words, reminding her why she's supposed to get her music back.

She doesn't know why exactly Nathan wants this for her but since it's the only thing he's asked from her ever since she got back, one that didn't involve dissolving their marriage, she closes her eyes and turns around, blindly following Chris' voice as he once again mentions Nathan's name. She has to deal with this, she reminds herself. She has to show him. She has to be patient and do everything that he wants. To get him back, get him to trust her once again. So despite her knee-jerk reaction of walking away, she goes back to her seat, strums her guitar and tries once more.

Her throat burns and she chokes on the words.

"There's no way that you're serious about that song, James."

"_Scott_", she grinds out through her tightly gritted teeth, throwing her best, most evil glare at Chris' direction. It's the exact same glare that sends the almighty Scott boys scampering away but Chris is unaffected, looks even more smug than before, if that's even physically possible.

This is the tenth time she has to correct Chris and she's sounding almost desperate now and this makes her even more sadder or angrier. Or maybe both.

"For now, babe." The semi-sneer is supposed to be charming but this sets her into a real mood to knock Chris Keller's teeth out. She's had enough of this punishment for today. She'll come back tomorrow for some more verbal abuse but this was her limit. She wordlessly grabs her bag, slings it over to her shoulder, the weight of her books nowhere near the weight she's carrying inside her heart.

It has a name, that awful weight. It's called regret.

"Hey, James - I mean, ooops, sorry, my bad, Mrs. Scott, c'mmon, knock it off, come back here and for once sing something real, something that wouldn't suck ass."

She's so very tempted to flip him the bird, make her brothers proud, but she ignores the urge and instead keeps her head held up high, walks away, slamming the door with all her might. She smirks a little as she hears Chris let out a string of curses. She thinks - no hopes, she's broken a few glass. Cracked it. Some damage suitable for everything that she's feeling right now.

She wants so badly to hurl her guitar case away, watch it break into tiny little pieces, wooden fragments clattering hollowly against the ground, strings unwinding, snapping, twanging tunelessly into the air, echoing, reverberatting and then fading faintly away.

She grips the curve of the handle hard, her fist clenching tightly, painfully. She isn't going to cry but she has to let out all this anger, this all consuming disappointment that she feels for herself.

Knocked out from the pedestal she doesn't even want to be standing on in the first place.

Ironic much?

As soon as she gets back to the apartment she'll flung the guitar into the wall, hide it underneath her bed, inside the cupboard, anywhere, she just doesn't want to see it, to touch it anymore. It represented the one thing that was left with her while she threw the rest of her life away for a dream that never, could never make her happy.

Could never, ever complete her the way Nathan could.

It doesn't help her any when later that day, after she has stuck her guitar underneath her bed, her phone rings and it's Taylor calling to chek up on her. Haley's convinced that her sister has some sort of built in radar that knows when exactly she's feeling like crap. She should've just hanged up on Taylor, especially since all Taylor has to say was how Little Miss Perfect Princess Haley didn't turn out to be such a perfect little housewife.

"Get it over lilttle sis, you messed up."

She can't get over how lovingly supportive her sister is.

It doesn't surprise her anymore when Lucas drops by at the cafe and is even less than supportive. Today he decides to side with his half-brother and Haley doesn't blame him, really, but it still hurts. It stings in a real bad way. It always does, especially when the criticism is coming from Lucas. She tells him that it's not fair, they all think that she's some sort of saint. Wasn't she allowed to make mistakes? She's not wearing angel wings, she's not perfect, why were they expecting so much from her when she's just like every seventeen year old girl trying to find herself and her place in the world. It's tiring and paralyzing - this image that she has to live up to.

Lucas assures her that everything will be ok.

He promises her this.

But she knows better. She knows that promises are nothing but flimsy words, not meant to last.

Hasn't she already broken her own marriage vow?

She feels her heart constricting painfully inside her chest. She wishes there's something that she could drink to cure all heartaches. She needs it so badly right now, she's even considering vodka as her possible potion. She briefly wonders if she's been hanging too much with the popular kids and that suddenly the only solution to her problems was to get some sort of distraction: alcoholic or non. Cheerleading. Extra hours at the cafe. Extra hours tutoring. Extra hours sitting by her small crammed bed hoping for a song, for just one true note to come to her.

"Lucas", she asks quietly into the familiar interiors of the cafe, "where is normal now?" Maybe she could find that way back to that and everything will be alright.

Lucas tells her that they left Normal a long time ago, even if they wanted to go back, they won't be able to find it anymore. So many things have changed.

"And besides, Hales, I thought you've stop wanting to be normal ever since you and Nathan got together?"

She's so sorry for everything but she doesn't know anymore how to show it, how to tell it. She feels so helpless and so, so alone. It's funny how she never saw herself as the little Ms. Perfect that everyone portrayed her to be. She's tried her best to be a good person, be everything that they expected her to be: smart, responsible, kind, caring... all those things and then some more. Never in her life had she done anything for herself other than fall in love and get married and she thought she deserve just one chance, just one shot of trying to follow her dreams...was it so wrong?

She used to be scared senseless with just that the thought of old dreams haunting her after so many years. She didn't want to be the coward who would look back and wonder "What if?"

Isn't that more poisonous? Wouldn't that be more awaful?

She wished she had been able to tell Nathan why she hadn't asked him to come with her. If he knew why, he wouldn't have felt so betrayed. She couldn't ask him to leave Tree Hill to follow her dreams. How could she when she knows that asking him to go with her on tour was the same things as asking him to quit basketball? She couldn't do that. She couldn't, didn't want to, would never sacrifice Nathan's dream for her own. She thought Nathan would understand her.

Of course, he might have. If only she hadn't ran away, hadn't been so hurt by the ulitmatum.

Him, them or her dreams?

God, she just had to marry the guy more stubborn then her.

When Lucas leaves, she immediately wishes Karen were here, she always knew the right thing to say, but she's busy with the campaign, she's busy with trying to find herself and not just be the single mother of Lucas Scott, owner of Tric and the cafe. And see, no one's giving Karen a hard time about that. Everyone had been so supportive.

Sometimes, she wish there's someone, just one person out there who thinks she's made the right choice. Just one person other Chris Keller.

She thought, maybe Peyton would understand her. Peyton had seemed so trapped in the world she had built around herself, her only escape was her dark ink and her dark words, but she was wrong and there was no one on her side, except maybe for Brooke who didn't hold it against her for stumbling and making the wrong choice.

Of course, she could argue with herself, with every damn one of them, from Nathan to Tayloy, to Peyton, Brooke and Lucas, she could talk and plead with them the whole day, until her face is blue, but the bottom line would always be: she left.

Were all of them so disappointed in her that they couldn't see how difficult it had been to actually leave? And then to finally go back home?

Her only saving grace was that she knows, dammit, she knows that she messed up the best thing that ever happened to her and she's doing everything just to show it, just so that they'll see how much she regrets that one weak, selfish moment.

She's lost everything.

She glances at her watch, thinks of going back to the apartment but decides against it. She could only stand a few hours of Brooke's giddy, bubbly scheming happiness and plus, tonight, Peyton was over at their - Brooke's place - and the way Peyton would look at her was almost as painful as waking up every morning to the disfigured painting of her self.

Pink slashing wound.

She had hurt Nathan so badly, he came that close to hating her.

She treads softly on the wooden floors of the cafe, wondering if this was the only remaining home she has. It's peaceful here. It's familiar, doesn't have half as many painfully memories tied to it. This feels more like home nowadays. Besides, there's lots of things to do here, things that will take her mind off Nathan and her many seemingly unforgiveable mistakes.

With a heavy sigh, she starts off by scrubing the sinks until her knuckles are red and blotchy and painful. She moves to sweeping the floor, wiping the counters, glass windows, fragile things that needed extra care, extra attention. She tells herself that this is a good thing, a good way to distract her heart from hurting too much.

It works.

Sort of.

An hour and a half later, she's sitting silently by the stool facing the piano, done with the cleaning, the inventory, with everything that needed to be done. If she polishes the wooden tables one more time, she's afraid that she might start crying again. It's lonely inside this empty cafe and she feels even lonelier now that she's sitting so still, just staring at the piano that doesn't beckon to her anymore. She's stopped hearing the many notes that once filled her heart and head. It's just silence. The same silence that has somehow become a constant friend/enemy.

Tonight, she's more exhausted than she thinks is humanly possible. She has bruises on her arms from cheering practice, her cheeks hurts from bravely smiling too much whenever she's asked if she' ok. She has dark circles underneath her eyes and tear stains that she can't cover up with any concealer, even the expensive ones that Brooke had lent her. She's so, so lonely even her bones are aching. She still doesn't want to go home though.

But no, that isn't even the truth. She doesn't really have a home to go home to. Isn't that just the saddest thing?

She stares outside and a hundred thousand memories burns right through her. Sometimes, she thinks that if she wishes hard enough, he might just suddenly show up, smile that smile of his, reserved only for her and then everything would be bright again. But there's only the hazy yellow light from the lamp posts outside, glaring headlights from a handful of cars passing by the cafe. It briefly illuminates the corner where the piano sits, so quiet now and then, back to darkness.

How to sing when there's no more music inside her?

She wonders if one day, she'll lose her voice as well. She seems to be losing all the things that she loves the most, the things that truly matters. She feels as though she has betrayed everyone that loved her, that believed in her. Even her own voice hates her now.

She can't sing. She's tried. Chris knows this. Mocks her everyday for never being able to complete just one song, the notes, the sharps and minors and majors, they swirl around her, but she can't feel them anymore and the words, no matter how pretty they are, they all feel so damn empty.

Lucas is worried about her. She could tell. She's grateful, but it's the wrong brother. And no matter how safe she feels inside Lucas' arms, it isn't the same. She has ran out of words and she can't think of anything more to say to let Nathan know how she regrets running away from him, she hadn't meant to hurt him, hadn't meant to be his worst betrayal. Somehow, she knows that she's worst if not as bad as Dan and Deb. She has abandoned him when all he had done for her was give her a way to dream more, to believe in herself more.

Dreams are funny things. They're like wishes. You have to be really, really careful, they play tricks on you. Lure your heart out only to crush it in the end. Her dreams had always been to sing, ever since she could remember, she had wanted that chance, because she's been told more than once how her voice sounded like angels and maybe she's vain that way and she hates herself for that, but it was the one thing that people really noticed about her that didn't have anything to do with books and grades and tutoring or being Taylor James' younger sister.

And yes, her marriage to Nathan scared her. There were nights when she'd wake up feeling trapped. She's too young, too young to be so much in love, to be so dependent in one person. And what if one day he realizes that she's not really as special? After all, he has never noticed her before, not until he felt it was necessary to hurt Lucas. And didn't she start as a pawn for him? A means to bring Lucas down?

She didn't doubt Nathan, she doubted herself. She doubted that she'll be good enough for someone like Nathan. Someone who was destined to shine. She wants to shine on her own. Or at least that was what she thought when she boarded that bus, the many songs in her head humming, humming, urging her to follow her dreams.

When she sings to the crowd, she feels herself soaring, the music is her wings.

But she forgot to listen to her heart and eventually, she lost herself and the only way to get Haley James-Scott was to go back home, to Nathan.

She'd been afraid that it was too late and she had been right.

It's her fault. She knows this. She remembers realizing when her dreams stopped being her dreams: the crowd in front of her, shining, faces illuminated by the bright spotlights dancing, dipping into the crowd. Everyone of them staring so adoringly, so lovingly at her - at her voice.

But not one of them was Nathan.

Nathan who gave her everything, gave up everything for her. Nathan who had so sweetly requested that she make things better for him just by singing, who had silently sat by this very same chair and listened not just to the song, but to her heart.

How come he realized it first? That dreams were meant to be glorious phantoms, not reality, because the moment you've reached them, the moment a fallen star falls and settles into the palm of your hands, it's no longer that burning, glowing pin point of light. It's a plain old rock that fell from the sky, nothing more special than the rest of the rocks that had fallen right off the blackened midnight sky and you're not supposed to give up the things, the persons that anchors your heart, your soul for that.

She just wants him to let her love him again. If he'd just let her, she'd show him, she'd be his glowing star and she'd glow just for him, because of him. She doesn't need the songs and the music and the crowds anymore. She just needs him back.

She sighs, fights off the tears threatening to spill once more. She's done crying. She's done being sad and lonely. She needs to be strong to get him back. She knows that he still wants her, still loves her as much as she does and if words were not enough, there's always other ways.

Other ways.

She stands up, determined now. She has followed her phantom childhood dreams, she's strong enough to follow what she's destined for, the one real thing in her life.

She turns to look at the piano and then closes her eyes and imagines Nathan as he stood infront of her and promised her always and forever. Her one true love. Her protector.

Always and forever.

She gingerly touch the random ivory keys. Familiar. Strange. New. Old.

She tries one, two, three notes. A smile tugging the corner of her lips. Her courage had always been because of him, because he believed in her. And he still does, so she must sing for him this time. Like that one night so many light years ago.

A song inside her blooms gently and slowly, the notes comes to her, then the words and when she hums the first verse, she sees Nathan, feels him, feels her love for him and for the first time since she got back home, she feels a spark of hope, a fire inside her. And she isn't as cold as anymore.

She's back to being Haley James Scott - this time, sans halo.

end

Notes: It's uhm, a little OOC, I know. And angsty but I hope you guys liked.


	2. Missing You

**Missing You **

By Grace (purplemud)

**Rating**: M / 4 (strong language and some sexual content)

**Pairings**: Naley

**Summary**: Nathan's rambling, drunken thoughts while not-missing Haley

**Spoliers**: Season Two

**Author's Note**: I just added this to Halo, since it's sort of like a companion piece for it. Although I guess I'll just put all of my Naley one shots all in one place. I mean, if that's ok. Would love feedback. Thanks.

* * *

**_Missing You_**

It's driving him wild. Insane. Mad. Stark, raving, drunken mad. He feels like an animal caged and sometimes he just wants to break through the door and leave, but he can't. _Won't_. Because what if she comes back and he's not here? What if she thinks he had left too? What if she decides to leave him for good then? No, he has to stay here and wait for her.

Lucas thinks that this is some sort of cry for help, a desperate need for saving, for attention.

He sneers into the empty space, stertches his legs, bottle of beer, somewhere on the floor, toppling over. If it's empty, that's not a surprise. If it's half filled or, wait, is it half empty? He frowns, tilts his head. Is he being pessimistic or optimistic today? And what difference would it make anyway? It's not like being either or would change the utter shittiness of this day. Night. Whatever.

Motherfucker, what was wrong with him?

It's half empty, he decides gritting his teeth.

If it's half empty, it'lll spill on the floor and he won't do anything about it.

_Ha_! _There's a huge beer stain on the floor, Haley. It's there and I'm not going to clean it up._

If it's true, if he's somehow connected to his wife and she can hear his thoughts, right here, right now, right this very second, this is what he wants her hear: A big stinking beer stain on your lovely carpet, oh, precious neat-freak wife of mine.

He sends her a mental vision too boot.

He concentrates hard enough his eyes starts to sting real bad.

_Beer stain. Haley, baby, I'm messing up the apartment. Better come back home soon. Like, now._

He lets his head loll forward, watery, bleary eyes to the door.

Five, ten, thirty seconds, minutes, hours, days.

Nope, not happening.

Is he even surprised?

There is no connection, physical, mental, emotional, otherwordly, sixth-sense like between estranged married couples - specifically him and Haley - fucking, lying priest, pastor, whatever. He should have known. Nothing is ever real anymore.

Lucas comes in everyday and tells him: "You miss her Nate, I do too, but you've go to stop moping around."

And drinking. Lots of underage, afternoon, early morning actually, no, no make that all day, all night, 24/7 drinking.

Lucas leaves this all unsaid of course, the moralistic little pussy. What is wrong with his brother? Nathan wonders not for the first time in his life. They're a family of dysfunctional alcoholics anyway. It's his God given right to be sullen and depressed and angry and oh-so miserably alone.

Truly, he's the son - _spawn_ - of Dan Scott.

And man, it's been pretty amusing watching everyone try to ignore fact that lately, he's been nothing but incredibly drunk. Like showing up at his parent's house at four in the morning with ridiculous hopes of maybe finding Haley there sort of drunk.

And he wants to stay that way too, thank you very much.

Which is why it's annoying, this sudden surge of trying to talk him out of his anger and depression and resentment and what was Coach's term? Ah yeah, immature behavior.

Yeah. Right. Like he'd listen to anyone of them. There's only one peson who could make him stop drinking and she's not here.

Bad ass Nathan Scott is back, baby. He is so totally done being the pansy assed husband left behind.

He's not going to be half-dead, half-crazy, half-bathed, half-drunk anymore.

Miss her. Jesus. For someone who likes to think of himself as incredibly, impossibly smart and better than everyone else, the Almighty, understanding Saint-slash-Hero Lucas Scott, his older bastard half-brother, by the way, could be a real idiot sometimes.

Asshat.

Miss Haley? Miss her? How could Lucas ever know how he's been feeling for the last two weeks, four days, seven hours, eleven minutes and six and a half fucking seconds since Haley left?

He wasn't missing Haley. Oh, no. Not at all.

Missing her would be the farthest thing. Impossible. No fucking way.

_Luke, bro, man, to so flippantly say that I'm missing Haley - my wife, love of my life, wait no, check that, my life - is like, belittling everything that I am feeling right now. Making it seem so.. so pathetic. So fuck you, Lucas, I don't miss her at all. And mind your own fucking business._

He's going to have to remember all that so that the next time he sees his brother, he'll be able to say all those and maybe even some more.

Lucas obviously doesn't get it. Nathan thinks he never would. Not even if both Peyton and Brooke and oh, half of the girls Luke had dated in the span of six months all ran out on him, all together - middle of the night, nothing but tear stains on her pillow case and a bracelet left on the table, no note, no good bye, no I'm sorry I have to do this but I'll miss you so much baby, nothing like that all, God Haley, do you hate me that much? - Lucas will never ever know how he was feeling right now.

Miss her?

How could a man miss the very air that he breathes, the very fucking sustenance of his life? The reason why he's even breathing?

God, he was still breathing.

And yeah, reeking of alcohol too, but Jesus, still breathing. How is that even possible when all he could feel inside his chest is a raging, aching, always, always aching empty gap.

And to add insult to injury, drinking doesn't help at all. Did everyone around him think that he's been drinking to numb the pain away? It's always there. Every time he takes in a deep breath, mumbles her name in his sleep, stares hard at the door, willing, wishing, waiting, hoping, dreaming it opens up and she'll be there, standing there, preferably, soaking wet from the rain, but he'll take her any which way, just as long as she's there, she's back and she's never ever going to leave again.

His Haley. His wife.

Who, little footnote here, buddy, left you and your marriage for the dream that you've taken away from her.

Nathan hisses out some worldess curse. How was he supposed to know that by marrying her, by making her his, he'd be stealing away her dreams? He didn't know it then. And he hadn't meant for it to happen this way. If she had just told him to wait... oh, wait, wait, she did! She did tell him that they were too young and what did impulsive, selfish Nathan do? He made her marry him. He tricked her into marrying him and now she's gone and there's no getting her back.

Afterall, Nathan thinks, bitter, angry and sorry, so sorry for ever making her choose, for running away when she was trying to hold him to her, tear stained face, eyes so dark and warm and brown and oh-so-sorry for kissing Keller, God, help him, if he ever sees that fuckbag Keller ever again he's going to pummel his sorry scrawny little emo-poser ass to the ground. Burry him. Or drown him. Yeah, he'd like to see that: pale flapping, gangly bony, little arms slowly sinking into oblvion. He smirks, balls up his hand in a tight fist, imagines Keller's head going underwater. He'll have to push the fucker off a boat or something but Nathan thinks he could manage that no problem.

But wait, after all what? Dammit, his thoughts were spiraling.

After all, Haley had made it perfectly clear that her dreams are lovelier, way better than him, than their marriage. Why else would she leave everything behind? Why would she leave without even saying goodbye? Maybe all he would have wanted was a farewell hug, one last kiss, a promise to promise to keep their always and forever always and forever.

If she only waited for a few minutes for him, she'd know (she should've known) that he was going to take back everything that he had just said. He didn't mean it. God, he didn't it mean it when he told her to leave and that they're over.

He was so fucking stupid.

It's his father's stupid fucking genes.

The Scott genes that repels the people that loves them the most.

Nathan swallows hard, closes his eyes. He knows that everyone had always secretly thought of it, that eventually, he'll leave Haley, cheat on her, knock her up and then abandon her. No one thought that she'd leave _him_ because she had kissed a guy and that same guy had her packing her bag ang riding off into the horizon on a fucking tour bus.

Kissing Keller was awful but forgiveable. In fact, Nathan is ready to admit that he had already forgiven Haley for kissing that slimy, manipulative bastard. He forgave her the moment he stopped out of their apartment. That she didn't want him to be part of her dream, that was what destroyed him.

That and the fact that she still left even though he had said that they'd be over if she did.

How could she not know that? If she loved him, she should now that this is killing him. This distance. This space in between them. It's getting bigger by the second. Everytime her tour bus reaches another destination, everytime she sings in front of adoring (for who could not adore Haley James-Scott?) crowds, every night he goes to sleep without her in his arms, every morning he wakes up, turn to his side, reach out to pull her to him only to realize that she isn't there, every time he ends up drunk and alone in their apartment, trying to hold on to her fading scent, it gets worse.

It's getting worse Haley. He mumbles into the darkness. Baby, I don't know how long I can take this anymore.

There is only silence.

The phone calls are never enough. They always end up bickering and he and Haley never ever bickered before. And everytime they say goodbye, he wants so much to call her back and say he's sorry and that he wants to make it right but the only way to make it right is if he could hold her, if he could be with her, if he could just kiss her...

So he never calls back. He lets the last argument and the last one after that and the last before that hang in the air, weigh them both down.

Nathan is starting to get scared that he just might end up willing to let her go. That one night she's going to call him to tell him that she's finally coming home and that this time, he might not want her to come home anymore.

He groans out loud, presses his skull with his hands and realizes that he's becoming more irrational by the minute but that this has been by far the most sense he had ever made out of this senseless parting, this ridiculous separation from his wife.

He gropes blindly by the table, knocks a glass (or vase?) down before finding the cool, cold bottle of beer? No definitely not beer. Stronger. Burns his throat, goes straight down his stomach, past his empty rib cage, past the place where his heart once was. His hear that was now ripped, shredded, somewhere in a crummy tour bus listening to her as she sings her sad lullaby.

She's got such an awesome voice, his Haley. It's clear and soft and all sorts of sexy and deep when she wants it to be and really, really, dream-like and strong and vulnerable and just Haley. And now everyone wants her voice. But not just her voice. They want all of her. And now everyone is going to try and steal her from him. Had already stolen her from him. It's ineveitable, Nathan thinks, after all, did he really think he could keep her locked inside their bedroom (even though he once had that secret fantasy) all to himself. But he would've appreciated it if Haley had put up a fight. She could've at least not ran away so soon, she could've at least waited a few more years, when it became too obvious that she's way better than him and she deserves so much more. After all, before him, she's destined for greater things and he knows even though she never says it, that she's not supposed to be seventeen and married in high school. She's not supposed to be working on all the possible shifts at the cafe to pay their rent and food and practically everything else. She's supposed to be hanging out with Lucas, having roof top golf, having fun, dating smart guys, planning her future.

Everything that the Scott men touches, they ultimately ruin.

He takes another great big gulp of vodka.

Vodka's nice. No, actually, vodka's great. It's Brooke's favorite alcoholic drink, next to gin and rhum and Brooke is totally an expert when it comes to drinking all her loneliness "my parents abandoned me for money, guys never really love me" woes of misery. Brooke is probably a semi-closet alcoholic but since she's not a miserable drunk, only a slutty one, it's totally ok for her to get wasted and sleep around. No one gives a shit or gives her sad, sorry little looks, tells her to let it go and get his life back on track.

Peyton might have become an alcoholic too, come to think of it, but she opted for snorting coke instead and, oh, look see, there's another example of the Mighty Scotts' Fucking Midas Touch. Tim has it all wrong and backwards. But whatever. Vodka is still great. Plus it's free. His mother has plenty of everything tucked underneath kitchen sinks and unused bedrooms, just gotta know where to look. His parents unknowingly financing his downward spiral to oblivion. Nathan can so feel the love.

And, vodka, by the way, is also his mother's favorite drink.

Ah, well, what do you know, he's also his mother's son.

The realizations today are just fucking _stellar_.

Lucas might disagree and say it's actually quite sad and profound, but Nathan isn't really into all that profoundness bullshit. He tilts his head back, tilts the bottle, doesn't wipe the liquid running down from the corner of his chin, dribbling down into his shirt, and then maybe on the couch as well.

_Vodka on the couch and beer on the carpet, Haley. Better get back soon before I spill pink paint all over the house._

Everyone around him pretends that they know him but they're all wrong. He drinks to keep himself from waking up from this confused angry daze. It's better this way. Because once he stops drinking, once he tries to focus on other things, things that did not involve this constant pain, he might end up loosing his only anchor to Haley and if he lost that, then he's certain, he's going to honest to goodness lose her and that scares him fucking shitless, more than anything else in the world. Because not having Haley... it's going to be not even a half-life it's going to be utter, daily, emptiness. The kind that even basketball would never be able to fill. And where would that leave him?

Exactly like his father.

He's not going to end up like Dan Scott. No. Never.

Which is why, for now, he has to keep on drinking. He has to keep himself focused on the pain, on the needing, on the wanting, on the desiring, on the not missing of Haley. It's the only way to keep her close to him. Maybe when she's ready to return to him, maybe then he could let go of the pain, that way when she's back, he won't have any resentments towards her, that way all the bitterness would've bled out from him and they could both work on saving their marriage. On trying to regain everything that they have lost over the past few weeks and the coming months.

And, ok, so maybe this particular way of dealing wasn't the best, wasn't the most adviseable, Lucas would certainly agree, no doubt, but what else is there for him to do?

All his life, he had been impatient. Always greedy. Always rushing to get things done, to have things for himself.

Nathan snorts, finds himself actually smiling. Leave it to Haley, even away, she still had something to teach him. He could practically see her now, hear her now: she's sitting by the dock, that awful poncho around her shoulder, her hair darker (he likes it better when it was darker) and she's leaning over to him, eyes bright and she'll say: "Nathan, somtimes love is never enough. I'm sorry, but it's true. Love is hard work. Marriage is tough."

And maybe it's time for him to learn that love goes hand in hand with a plenty of patience and forgiveness.

Maybe if he learned them well, maybe when she comes back it will even be better than before.

It might even be perfect.

Or he just might be really, really incredibly drunk tonight.

Either way, if there's one thing Nathan was sure of, he's going to fight to have his wife back and he's going to fight his damnest - even if it means fighting his own self, his own little insecurities and fear and maybe even then, he might not still be the best man for her, but he'd be a better guy and he's damn fucking certain he could work on being the only man for her.

Nathan closes his eyes, leans his head deep into the couch, struggling to find Haley's favorite spot, the spot where her scent is the strongest. He takes a deep breath, but doesn't get greedy, since already, her pillows no longer smell like her and her scent here is quickly fading too, so he doesn't inhale everything all in, just a sweet little sniff: lavander, mint, clean, Haley, Haley, Haley.

Ah, blissful oblivion.

Tonight, he dreams.

He'll dream.

He'll dream of her and the many wonderful scenarios of how she'll come back to him, or how he'll come to her and everything would be ok and they'll make love.

No, no, Nathan sleepily shakes his head, first, he'll fuck her real good, make her talk dirty, he likes that a lot, it just gets him all the time, especially when she whisper it so raspy-like, so un-Haley and Haley-like all at the same time: soft, shy, sweet and fucking Haley-sexy (cause there's no other way to describe it) and God, he'll make her beg a little, make her scream his name, be so deep inside of her, there'd be no way for her to ever leave him again and then, then after that, he'll make love to her.

Real tender and slow and careful and sweet, like their first time.

And then he'll say that he loves her so much and he knows he gets awfully greedy and possessive but he's so very, very sorry, he'll try to be more understanding and patient and that she can have all of her dreams, everything that she wants, he'll follow her anywhere, every where, never ever let her leave him again.

Tonight he dreams of her and admits, somewhat grudginly, that he does in fact, heart-wrenchingly, painfully, honestly miss her.

- end -


End file.
